


Growing Pains

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Puns, Bittersweet Ending, Caretaking, Concern, Confusion, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Female Frisk (Undertale), Friendship, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Awkwardness, Menstruation, Post-Canon, Puns & Word Play, Species Differences, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Even if they don't fully understand it, the monsters try to offer Frisk comfort and support when she gets her first period.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Growing Pains

With a thundering heart, a lump in her throat and tears pricking her wide eyes, Frisk stared down at the wet, warm fabric twisted around her ankles.

Something was wrong with her. Her HP hadn’t changed and yet she was bleeding.

She had woken up, achy, hot and needing the bathroom just a few minutes ago. She should have known the dull, deep stomachache wasn’t normal, but seeing the dark, sticky seat of her pajamas only compounded the growing panic. Blood, she’d seen before. Blood that appeared for no reason? How could that happen?

A choked noise escaped as her first thought was of resets—something she’d done, a fight, an injury from another timeline, quite _literally_ bleeding into this one, but how could that happen without any HP evidence? She had checked and doubled-checked it, finding no damage, which meant healing items wouldn’t do anything to help.

Was she sick? The tremors running through her and the feverish heat clinging to her might confirm it. Alphys might figure it out, but if it scared her as much as it was scaring Frisk, what if she couldn’t focus on finding a way to fix it?

 _Don’t cry. You…You’ve had worse than this. A lot worse. Just…stay determined_.

Sucking in a ragged breath and biting her lip to hold it, Frisk kicked off the stained pants and, after a moment’s thought, hesitantly shuffled for one of the bathroom towels to wrap herself. Legs weak underneath her, stomach throbbing and jittery with nerves, she shuffle-limped tearfully out of the bathroom and down the hall.

 _Mom will know. She knows a lot, she_ has _to know. She can make it okay_.

* * *

As it turned out, though she had no firsthand experience with it, Toriel did know. She now had Frisk bundled up against her on the couch, head resting on her knee as she ran a paw over her hair and warm forehead. With a low, quivery sigh the child relaxed, soothed by the ministrations.

It had taken some doing to get there; the early morning had been fraught with panic. Papyrus’ scream when he found bloody trousers in the bathroom had woken everyone in the house and forced Toriel to fight for some semblance of control. She had given the shortest explanation possible for the sake of time and then sent Papyrus to the store with a list of some basic supplies. Speaking of which, Toriel could hear his scrambling strides long before he kicked open the door.

“The great Papyrus returns! I bring all of the necessary provisions for your ultimate care and comfort, human!” he hollered breathlessly, grocery bags brimming in his arms. “You will be pleased to hear that after clearing the so-called ‘Feminine Care’ aisle, I took the liberty of sweeping the ‘Health and Wellness’ aisle for disinfectant, bandages and gauze!”

“As much as we appreciate your thoughtfulness, Papyrus, my child isn’t injured,” Toriel reminded him patiently.

“How can that be?” he scoffed as he shuffled his burdens onto the nearby table. At least a dozen packs of pads in varying sizes spilled out and onto the floor. “I was told before I left that she was bleeding and in pain! Is that not still true, human?”

Tired, halfhearted signs from Frisk assured him that it was very much the truth and he huffed, folding his arms and giving the Queen an expectant stare that spoke volumes of “ _You see?_ ”

“U-Um, I’ve been doing a lot of research on h-human biology,” Alphys piped up. “T-Tori— _Queen_ Toriel asked me to find out whatever I could s-since Frisk is staying with her f-for the foreseeable future…So anyway…No, she’s not injured, Papyrus. Approximately half of the human p-population experiences bleeding like this every month, once they c-come of age.”

“Wh—Seriously? Frisk is going to get laid up like this _every single_ month? As in every month, every year, forever?!” Undyne sputtered. “That’s just a big hassle! Humans come with so many botched parts! Never mind bleeding out; if I were the one dealing with it, I’d probably just get _bored_ to death!”

“Good heavens, Frisk is not going to bleed to death!” Toriel exclaimed, paw tightening against Frisk’s head as she shuddered. “It is only a small portion of blood to lose. She ought to be well again in a week or so. Correct, Alphys?”

“Yeah, that’s right! She should be j-just fine,” Alphys promised hastily, wringing her claws as she mustered the courage to rush on. “And, Undyne, I think that if humans like her do have to deal with this every month, it…it must make them p-pretty tough. Right? So Frisk shouldn’t, um…be made to feel bad about it. You know?”

She must have noticed how the flush in Frisk’s face had deepened, leading her to curl deeper into her throw blanket. After everything Frisk had done to influence their kind, it was easy to forget sometimes that she could still be a scared, uncertain kid. For a moment Undyne looked stricken at the realization, throwing her hands up in surrender.

“Oh! I wasn’t implying she should feel _bad_ about it! She probably already feels bad enough; it’s gotta suck! It’s not her fault her body’s turning traitor. Uhh…” Hoping to compensate, she forced a toothy grin. “Hey! Maybe it’ll make for some sick scars!”

 _Rather unlikely_ , Toriel thought with some amusement, though she didn’t correct her. Undyne seemed to have the same trouble that Papyrus did, understanding blood without a wound.

“Hey, kid. I got a bag of rice warmed up,” Sans greeted as he strolled out of the kitchen toward the couch. “Should be nice for your side, right? Down but _hot_ out.”

“Brother! You actually cooked something?” Papyrus gasped, belatedly forced to fight his instinctive smile in exchange for a distasteful sniff. “Of course, I would feel some modicum of pride for you if it weren’t for that infuriating pun!”

“Well, that’s not very _rice_ of you,” Sans retorted, laying an affected hand over his soul. “That _heat_ me too close to home! If you’re going to insult some rare, special edition cooking, at least give me some advance _warming_.”

He glanced to the couch, where the lump under the blanket was shaking in silent laughter. Toriel chuckled too and it spurred him on. “I put in a hot of effort to do this, y’know. It was no easy heat. Maybe it’ll leave a hot to be desired—or for all I know, this is as good as it sweats! I had to rice to the challenge and give it my best hot, for the kid’s sake. Don’t grain on my parade.”

“Alright, alright! By the time you finish, it’s sure to go cold!” Papyrus groaned, shoving Sans toward the couch so he could hand the rice bag off to its owner. “How did you successfully use the same ‘ _hot_ ’ wordplay more than once in four sentences?!”

“I’m just that good.” At Toriel’s nod of approval, Sans poked a couple of fingers under the blanket, pulling its corner back to reveal Frisk wearing a watery smile. He returned it. “There, see? That’s the brave kid we know. You’ve got this.”

She accepted the hot bag with a signed thank-you, wincing faintly as she draped it over her sore stomach. It would stay toasty for a good, long while, warmth trapped under the blanket’s folds.

“And, uh, don’t tell your mom or anything,” Sans added with a quick wink to counter Toriel’s raised eyebrow. “But I might have snagged some chocolate I can sneak to you later. If you’re gonna be lazing around with me for a week, I gotta show you how to get cavities properly.”

“I must applaud your model example, my friend,” Toriel huffed, though it didn’t hold too much reproach. Her mind was already wandering. If Chara were still…That chocolate would have been long gone before Sans could come across it.

This bleeding was just another reminder of how quickly Frisk was growing up. How would Chara have treated this coming of age, had it come to pass? How comforted would Frisk be to have a sibling who understood?

With wistful fondness, she would always be left to wonder.


End file.
